Afterthoughts - Veronica Mars Season Four
by Goddess Isa
Summary: I'm basically writing everything that Rob didn't that takes place between the episodes
1. Chapter 1

"You proposed?" Dick's laughter was immature and insulting. "Why would you do that?"

"I love her."

"You're already living together, so that's like, nightly sex right?"

I glanced at Dick before taking him down in the game we were playing. "Yes, that's exactly what living with a woman is like. One big nonstop orgy."

"So then why propose? There's no point!"

I defeated Dick again and put the controller down. "The point is that I love her. I wanna spend the rest of my life with her."

"Switch controllers with me," Dick tossed me his. "This thing must be stuck."

After I'd beat him three more times, he suggested an easier game.

"Like what?"

"Mario Kart?"

"I gotta get home," I glanced at my watch. "Veronica will be home soon."

"See?" Dick laughed. "You're already whipped. Why put a ring on it?"

I slugged him in the shoulder on my way out the door.

* * *

Veronica wasn't home yet when I got there, and the texts I sent her went unanswered.

Not that I know exactly what I want to say to her.

Things have been so good for so long. I don't wanna set off her instincts to run. It took me a lot of time to get over the last time she took off. Despite what Jane says, I'm positive I couldn't do it again.

I was channel surfing when Veronica came home. Before I could say anything she said, "I reek of smoke and dirt and dead bodies."

"Oooh, such a turn on," I smirked at her and turned the TV off.

"Lemme just jump in the shower, and then….."

She was down the hall with the door closed before we could discuss what "and then" meant.

I waited on the bed for her, swearing that I wasn't going to yell. I hadn't talked to Jane about it yet, but I was sure that telling her I was hurt by her blowing off my proposal was the surest way to get her to take off.

So I'll stay calm(ish). I'll listen to what she has to say.

I had half of what I was going to say worked out when Veronica breezed into the room in one of my tee shirts.

"This bombing is insane," she took a pair of panties out of a drawer and pulled them on. "Every news outlet in the country is covering it. The crime scene is disgusting, ugh," she shivered and made a gagging face. "But I think there's real money in it for us. God knows we need it."

"Veronica," I began, but it was like she didn't even hear me.

She was walking around the room, pulling on pajama pants, putting on lotion, combing her hair out. She never stopped talking about the case, or her dad, or spring breakers. It was like she was talking about anything but us.

When she finally got in bed, lights turned out, facing away from me, I figured this was my opening. I wrapped an arm around her and kissed her cheek. "Veronica, we should-"

"Tomorrow," she muttered sleepily. "Exhausted. Love you."

She was asleep before I could say anything else.

* * *

The next morning I heard Veronica sneaking around. She was trying not to wake me, but the amusing thing is that for someone who goes incognito for a living, she has a hard time being quiet around the house.

I faked sleep while watching her dress, listening to her make coffee. I wanted to see if she was gonna come talk to me.

She didn't.

I caught her literally trying to sneak out the front door with her shoes in hand.

"Hey," she threw her chucks down and forced her feet into them. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't. Did you eat? I could make eggs, or-"

"I have to get to the office. I made coffee." she rushed over and planted a quick kiss on my lips. "I'll see you tonight."

"Don't forget we have Dick's movie thing," I reminded her.

She made a face. "The title of his future porno. Bye."

The door slammed shut and Pony stirred awake, looking at me like I'd done something terrible.

"Sorry girl," I knelt down and scratched her behind the ears. "Come on, I'll take you out."

But Pony refused to go. She yawned, turned away from me, plopped back on her bed and refused to get up again. When I abandoned trying to rouse her to get some coffee, I heard her snoring.

* * *

Jane wasn't at all surprised that Veronica had turned down the marriage proposal.

"Isn't that what you expected?" she asked, pen poised in hand to write down whatever I said.

"No, I expected…..a fight, I guess. A big discussion. But we haven't even talked about it."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Well she's got a big case right now. And I know she doesn't want to risk losing the money she could make upon solving it."

"Is she still refusing to let you cover the apartment? The car?"

"Yes."

"So maybe you should look at this as an opportunity to reevaluate your relationship."

"How do you mean?" I asked even though I knew exactly what she meant. She'd said it many times before.

"From what you've told me, Veronica is not the kind of woman that will let you support her completely. Perhaps she sees marriage as giving up all her independence."

"That's ridiculous."

"What is? My suggesting it or her thinking it?"

"Both, honestly."

"You must have some idea why she turned you down."

I had several, but I wasn't sure what I wanted to say. "She said it was about my parents, her parents."

"And this is something you discussed before?"

"Yeah, in the past. Not recently."

"Why do you think that is?"

We've already had this discussion. "I think it's because Veronica thought it was a one-and-done discussion. She said she didn't want to get married and I agreed so we're past that."

Jane scrawled some things down. "Except you're not."

"No, I'm not. I want to marry her."

"Is there a possibility," Jane began, and I knew where this was going, because we've had this talk before. "That maybe you should find someone who has the same long term goals as you do?"

"Veronica and I don't necessarily have different goals."

'Well, if you want to get married, and she doesn't, those are drastically different goals."

"Marriage was a plan, not a goal."

"Six of one," Jane allowed, "Half a dozen of the other."

"I just don't want to explode when we finally discuss it." I admitted after a few minutes.

"That's your first instinct, to explode?"

"It just seems like the easiest thing to do. Scream now and feel guilty later."

"We're almost out of time, but I want to remind you that a relationship is a _compromise_," she said it slowly to put emphasis on it. "If you can't compromise to make her happy, and if Veronica can't compromise to make you happy, there might not be a relationship enough to save. Think about that until our next session."

I agreed like I always did, but that isn't an option. I can't even picture my life without Veronica in it.


	2. Chapter 2

Instead of having the discussion we needed to have, Dad stayed and had dinner with Logan and I. Then Dad left, and Logan and I had sex in the shower before falling into bed. The bruise on his hand was barely noticeable now, and he showed little evidence of being in a fight with two crazy pricks just hours ago.

"You're sure you wanna take this job?" I asked as he pulled me against him under the covers.

"I think it'll be good for alot of reasons," he mumbled against my hair.

I wanted to say more, but I was tired and this was comfortable. Laying like this, it was easy to pretend there wasn't an argument in progress. It was easy to ignore the tension that I could only hope was eating away at him the same way it was eating away at me.

So I slept until thunder woke me up. I jerked awake and saw that Logan was lying there, covers kicked off, staring at the ceiling. One of the lamps was still on, illuminating his features.

"Hey," I propped up on my elbow. "You're not sleeping?"

"I'm not tired."

I moved to touch him but he grabbed my hand. "Don't."

"Logan-"

"Things aren't good between us," he swung his legs over so that he was sitting on the side of the bed, facing away from me. "There's all this tension, there's things we won't say."

"So that's what's keeping you up?" I snaked my arms around him from behind, pressing my body against his. "Tell me what it is."

"Veronica," he started to pull away and I tightened my grip.

"Tell me," I pressed. "Talk to me."

"I don't wanna fight. I don't wanna have sex so we ignore what's not being said. And I really fucking don't wanna break anything else."

I decided to save my opinions on what happens after he breaks stuff for another time. "I don't wanna fight either."

"But you provoked one last night," he wrestled away from me and I expected him to leave the room but he just stood there, looking crestfallen.

"That wasn't a fight, that was-"

"Do you even think about what feeling like that does to me?" the last time I saw a look like this on Logan's face, it was when he realized his mother was dead. "It makes me feel like I'm my dad. And that is the last fucking thing I want to be."

"Logan, you are _nothing_ like your father."

"You say that now. But the feeling of not having control over the situation? It's a small line between throwing a coffee mug and throwing punches."

"Logan." I got up and moved so that I was kneeling on the bed across from him. I grabbed his hands and made him look at me.

"You are not your dad. And I know that you would never hurt me. But….we have bigger problems than the hole in the kitchen cabinet."

Logan bit his lip, and I could tell he was holding something back.

"What? What is it?" I pressed.

"You didn't even ask me when." he finally said.

"When what?"

"When I decided that I wanted to marry you."

Shit. I knew we were gonna have this discussion. It's inevitable but I figured we would dance around it for at least another day and then have it at a normal hour with beer or wine. I didn't expect to have it at three am when I have to pee.

"Logan…..we talked about marriage when you got back from your six month deployment. And I thought we were on the same page."

"I was never on that page," he shook his head. "But I didn't want to lose you, so I agreed."

"You agreed, so you were lying?"

"I wasn't lying, I was….waiting. And I had almost made up my mind that I'd wait forever, because I didn't want to lose you."

Why does he keep saying that? "I'm not going anywhere, Logan."

"You say that, but…." he shook his head.

"But?" I pressed.

"I wasn't gonna take the chance, but then….."

"But then what? My feelings just went completely out the window?"

"No, I would never-it's not like that."

"So what was it like?"

"That discussion we had….about not getting married…..that was four years ago. And things were fine, they were great between us."

I wanted to say, "And they're not now?" but I already know the answer so I swallow that one down. "So what changed?"

"I had a crash."

A chill came over me and my chest tightened. "You what?"

"About two years ago, my jet crashed. No one was hurt, not seriously, anyway," Logan had moved across the room now and was leaning against the dresser. "But we had to update our beneficiary forms, and when I did that, and I wrote your name, it asked what our relationship was, and I wanted to write 'wife'." he shrugged. "I love you, Veronica. I think I've loved you for twenty years, and I want to marry you."

"Don't you think maybe you should've told me about the crash when it happened?"

"I couldn't, not at first anyway. And then I was home, and I was happy, we were happy, and I didn't want to upset you. And then I was gone again, rinse, repeat."

"When did you buy the ring?" I don't even know why I asked that, because it doesn't matter.

"On a layover two trips ago. Been working up the nerve to ask you ever since."

"You could've been killed." I felt tears prick my eyes and I squeezed them away.

"But, I wasn't."

"Don't do that," I shook my head. "Don't minimize the situation." I climbed across the foot of the bed and pulled him into my arms. "You have me thinking you're off somewhere giving someone orders, that they're the ones in danger and not you," I was crying against his chest now, hard as I tried not to.

"I'm always gonna be in danger," he whispered against my hair.

"Don't keep stuff from me."

"You keep things from me."

I pulled back, suddenly angry again. "Like what?"

"You yelled at me and then took off when I proposed-actually I didn't even get to that part-you took off _before_ I proposed, and you're mad at me, but you won't just say it."

"I tried to talk about it last night and you punched a wall, and we had this great night and then you're mad at me, so I call you to apologize-"

"Yes, and you said we'd talk tonight, but we didn't."

"We're talking now," I fought off a yawn.

"Fine, we're talking now. You're snapping at me instead of just coming out and saying that you're mad."

"I'm not mad…." it was half a lie. "Mad isn't the right word."

"So what is the right word?"

"I was flabbergasted. Taken aback. Gobsmacked."

A smile played across his lips. "Gobsmacked?"

I punched his shoulder "Don't get all cute on me now. I'm too upset."

"Me too," he admitted.

"Can we just….get past all this craziness with the bombing and then sit down and talk about it?" I asked. "I'm tired and I have to pee."

Logan laughed, and I felt that clenching in my chest finally relax. "Yeah. We'll talk tomorrow. Go pee." he kissed my forehead then the tip of my nose.

As soon as I shut the door, I started sobbing. I don't know if it was the exhaustion, or a reaction to Logan's crash, or a combination, but I couldn't stop. I sat on the toilet crying for a good twenty minutes before Logan knocked on the door.

"Veronica?"

I wiped my eyes. "I'll be right out."

I flushed the toilet, washed my hands and tried to make my eyes look less poofy. When I opened the door, he was standing there, waiting.

"Thin walls," he held his arms open and I fell into them, crying again.

"I'm here," he said gently. "I'm fine."

"I know that. I don't know why I'm so upset."

Logan held me until I was cried out, then he brushed my hair back and kissed me tenderly. "Let's go to bed."

I hesitated because there was still so much to be said between us.

"We'll talk tomorrow," he said, reading my mind. Sometimes it was frustrating how well he knew me.


	3. Chapter 3

AUTHORS NOTES:

Since 404 picks up directly after 403, I decided to do both chapters after episode four, but with different parts of the story and different POVs. I'm actually liking writing in Logan's head. Thanks for reading!

* * *

Jane's face was full of disapproval and judgement. I wasn't quite sure she was entitled to be so judgy since she's always telling me to follow my own path.

"Do you think," she began, "that one night of partying was worth jeopardizing your sobriety?"

"I didn't jeopardize my sobriety," I ran a hand through my hair, frustrated. "I made an error in judgement but it doesn't mean anything. And I didn't get hung over," I added. I wasn't a complete mess the next day like Veronica.

"So you think you can drink and use and it's not a problem if you don't get hung over?" Jane wrote something down and looked at me expectantly.

"I think that, in hindsight, the ecstasy was a mistake because that's not who I am anymore." And because, if I fail a random drug test, I'll be dishonorably discharged, or worse.

"In my experience, people who've had problems with drugs and alcohol don't usually see how in over their head they are until they're treading water in the deep end, looking for an innertube."

It's comments like that that tell me just how much Veronica would hate Jane. I still think they should meet.

"I don't like to let anything define me. That includes my past."

"Your career doesn't define you?

"Maybe it does," I shrugged. "Maybe it doesn't."

"Logan, we're almost out of time but I want to remind you that you wanted to come in today even though it wasn't scheduled, because you wanted to discuss, in your earlier words, 'getting out of hand' the other night."

"I did say that, but-"

"I want you to really think about if that's who you want to be. If Veronica is becoming as good of friends with this Nicole girl as you say she is, it's a given that you'll be at her bar a lot. Being in a bar and not drinking can be a slippery slope."

I reminded her that I can drink without doing drugs. That I've been doing it for years now.

"So you've said," Jane closed her book and glanced at the clock, her polite way of saying "get out". "See you next session."

* * *

Veronica wasn't home when I got there-I knew she wouldn't be-but Pony was so I walked her and gave her a treat. When we got back, she laid down for a nap and I started to pace.

Pacing turned into panicking and I really didn't want to cook, which is how I usually relieve my stress, so I went for a run.

I ran in a not-so-great part of town to avoid the spring breakers. I did a lot of thinking while running. Thinking about what Jane said, thinking about what could happen if I got called in for a random drug test.

Thinking about Veronica and the failed proposal.

Thing is, when I called Jane to see her as soon as possible, I was planning to talk about Leo. I knew from the look on his face when he showed up here that he had no idea Veronica and I lived together. I knew he was making a move.

But when I sat down, it just felt….immature to talk about that. It made me feel like a teenager whose girlfriend has a science partner with a crush on her.

Which I guess kind of sums the situation up perfectly.

The apartment was dark when I returned and quiet except for the weird pop music coming from the downstairs apartment. I sent Veronica a quick text and jumped in the shower.

She was on the couch with Pony when I walked out. "Hey. I didn't hear you come in."

"Who can hear anything over that racket?" she rolled her eyes and pointed downstairs.

"These young whippersnapers and their newfangled music," I joked.

"Did you eat?" Veronica got up and looked in the fridge.

"Not yet."

She closed the fridge and ran a finger over the new cabinet door I'd installed. "This matches perfectly."

"I took the broken one with me to Home Depot."

Veronica looked like she was going to say something, but then she shook her head. "Chinese?"

"Sure." I pulled out my phone and ordered our usual. She returned to the couch and tried to get Pony to play with her rope.

"So I kinda wanted to talk."

"About?"

"Your reaction to Leo showing up here."

"I didn't really have a reaction," I sat next to her. "Food'll be here in twenty"

"No, you didn't," she folded her legs under her and faced me. "After he left, I expected….yelling or something, and you wanted to watch _Harlots_."

"We like _Harlots_."

"Not the point. Did you not wanna talk about it because you didn't wanna fight, or did you not wanna talk about it because there's nothing to talk about?"

"I think that's for you to tell me, not the other way around, Veronica."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"When he showed up here, he had no idea I was living here. It was written all over his face. And he introduced himself to me like I wouldn't remember him or something."

A light flashed in Veronica's eyes, and I knew where she thought this was going, so I had to tone it down.

"He knows we live together. He knows we're together. Flirting with each other to get information is just how we've always operated."

"So you were flirting with him?" the room suddenly felt too small, and there wasn't room for both of us and the fight that was brewing on the couch. I went to the fridge and got a beer.

"No, I wasn't flirting with him." Veronica said, but without any enthusiasm or defensiveness in her voice.

"I should go to bed," I set my beer on the counter.

"Logan, come on."

"I gotta be at Maloof's suite early tomorrow," I walked over and kissed the top of her head. "Good night."

She called after me, but I ignored her. It wasn't that I didn't trust her, it was that I didn't trust myself. I didn't want to get in a fight and blow up again. And I couldn't help but think that Veronica was trying to bait me so that I would do exactly that.


	4. Chapter 4

Logan was asleep when I came to bed. I don't know why I expected him to be laying there, awake, waiting.

I watched him sleep for awhile before I drifted off, and I started to feel guilty. Guilty for being evasive about Leo. Guilty because I keep picking little fights with him and shutting him out when I should be so grateful he's home. I never know how long I have him for.

The music woke us at two am. First it was rap. Then Katy Perry. Now some horrid honkey tonk country crap was filling the apartment and giving me a migraine the size of Texas.

"I'm going down there." I threw the covers back and sat up. "This is ridiculous."

"It's Friday night," Logan yawned. "Pretty sure even the cops won't shut them up on a Friday night."

"Yet another way the Neptune PD proves themselves inept." I headed for the bathroom, annoyed. "I had just fallen asleep," I muttered under my breath. I quickly peed, washed my hands, and returned to the bedroom, annoyed. "This is the worst music I've ever heard."

Logan shrugged. "I told you it could get worse than Katy Perry."

I plopped down next to him and stared at the ceiling. "Ugh."

"This music doesn't make you want to line dance?" he smirked at me.

"This music-and I use this term loosely-makes me want to rip my ears off."

Logan turned so he was propped up on his elbow, looking at me. "As long as we're awake…."

I grinned at him, arched my eyebrows, batted my eyelashes. "I'll turn the lights out." I started to get up and he reached for my wrist.

"Wait. I was thinking we might…...talk."

Great. Just what I wanted. A deep conversation about our relationship with a song about cheating spouses in the background. Perfect.

"I kinda bailed on you earlier," he admitted. "I needed space, and I needed to think."

"You bailed on dinner, too," I reminded him.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"You should be. I ate your eggrolls."

He smiled. "I knew you would."

"Why did you need space?"

"The other night, after Leo left…." Logan wasn't looking directly at me. There was a spot on the sheets he seemed to find very interesting. "You said something about 'Jealous!Logan' and I kinda panicked."

"Actually, you deflected and we watched TV and then went to bed without having sex."

Logan smirked again. "So the workaholic is turning into a little minx."

"I guess I just expected arguing and then a quickie or something."

The music downstairs changed to Taylor Swift and I let out a stream of curse words that made Logan laugh.

"Well you just lost the bet with your dad."

"You promised before you wouldn't say anything."

"And I won't," he leaned forward and kissed my nose. "I want us to be good."

"We are," I said, and I was pretty sure I meant it. "I don't want to bait you into flying off the handle. I do however, want to let you know you're free to shove me on the counter and fuck me into the middle of next week anytime you want."

"Duly noted," he grinned, then he yawned.

"You couldn't possibly sleep through this…" I waved my hand around, searching for the right word, "talentless sea hag," I finished.

"A sea hag?" Logan laughed. "Does she spent a lot of time in the water with Ursula?"

"You spend too much time with Wallace and Noah," I admonished, but I was smiling. Logan's behavior with Noah is something I haven't been able to wrap my head around yet. Even though he's his Godfather, Logan seems to….light up when he's around Noah. And that should probably be a good thing, but since I'm still missing that extremely nurturing mother gene that kicks into most women around my age, I'm not sure what to feel about it.

Logan yawned again. "Come 'ere," he opened his arms.

I flipped the lights off and nestled against his chest, sighing. I hoped that was the end of the Leo discussion.

"Does she have more than one song?" Logan asked, annoyed. "I mean she must, she's been torturing the masses for at least a decade now."

"This hasn't been the same song, over and over." I said. "I've heard at least three different songs."

Logan pulled his pillow over his head for a second. "Why is it that you know her songs?"

"My roommate my first year at Columbia was obsessed with her. Like, posters on the wall obsessed with her."

"I thought you lived alone most of your time in New York."

"Yeah, I had to move out because I couldn't stand to live with her anymore."

We were quiet for a few minutes, and I wondered what he was thinking about. Hopefully not the fact that I lived with Piz for almost a year in New York. Ancient history. Dark ages. Old!Veronica!

Fake!Veronica!, if I'm being honest.


	5. Chapter 5

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

This chapter really takes place DURING the episode, as well as after it, because that's the way I wanted to tell the story. I needed to have the scene where Veronica is telling Logan about her dad's health problems, to make this chapter work.

* * *

"That." Jane had a way of playing with her pen between her fingers. If she did it, I knew that she was about to say something…..derogatory about Veronica.

"What?"

"Her resistance to therapy, to you being in therapy. Let's talk about that for a moment."

We had talked about this at great length, multiple times, but I nodded in agreement anyway.

"Which would you say Veronica is more opposed to? You going to therapy or her accompanying you?"

"She's definitely more defensive about accompanying me."

"This is the Veronica that has a degree in psychology from Stanford, yes?"

"Yes," I acquiesced. "But I think she's pretty much forgotten about that all together."

"That's not healthy," Jane played with the pen again. "If she's closing the door on a piece of her past, there's obviously something she wants to leave in that room. And that's not a foundation to build a marriage on."

"For nine years, _I _was the piece of the past she kept in the closet. And then she gave in-her words-and let us be happy."

"She let _you_ be happy," Jane scribbled a few things down. "Haven't we been working on you controlling your own destiny?"

"Yes." Yes, we have, but realistically, I won't control my own destiny until I'm out of the Navy. And right now that's not in my gameplan. So it seems like a moot conversation to have.

I've pointed this out to Jane, and she retorts that I chose the destiny of reenlisting, taking the promotion. I sometimes think she can take that position because she doesn't know what I was like before I started flying.

"So if you admit that you control your own destiny, you also have to admit that Veronica controls hers."

"Absolutely she does, yes."

"So maybe…" she played with the pen again. "Maybe you need to find out if the destiny Veronica wants to choose has you in it."

Unpredictable should be Veronica's middle name. I thought we would have dinner and then actually talk tonight. I made lasagna, I did the dishes, and I walked Pony so she'd be snoring, which she is.

I took all the distractions-minus the case-out of the equation that I could so Veronica would be forced to sit down and talk to me.

All the equations except for her dad.

I'd noticed some changes in Keith the last few weeks, but we were finally in a good place. I wasn't sure I should say anything to him, but then I couldn't help myself and I asked him how he was really doing. He must've needed to talk because he unloaded a ton of stuff on me. Stuff about his hip, stuff about his memory loss, stuff about dizzy spells and insomnia. He was worried about botching the case and embarrassing himself, or Veronica. He said he thought that he should shut down the business and Veronica should think about being a lawyer again, and from that point on I knew it was the medication talking. The last thing Veronica wants to be-or even wanted to be, she admitted to me once-is a lawyer.

I let her rant, because I know that's what she has to do. And when I get an opening, I suddenly can't remember all the things I wanted to say.

All I hear in my head is Keith making me promise that I'll make sure Veronica is happy if something happens to him, and I say all the wrong things and make her even more upset than she already was.

"If I wasn't around, and your dad wasn't around," I ask her carefully, "What would you be doing?"

Veronica stands up and instead of being just angry, now she's about to cry. I can see it. "I would be sticking my head in the oven, because the two most important people in my life would be gone!"

I hold her while she cries. I apologize. Eventually we eat, because if there's one thing my girl loves, it's Italian food.

"I don't want to sleep," she says after channel surfing for an hour. "If I sleep, I'm gonna think about my dad, and I'm gonna cry, and I can't-" her voice shakes and her eyes well up. "I can't-"

"It's okay to be scared about your dad," I whisper against her hair, and I expect her to pull away from me and call me Therapy!Logan! again and make a sarcastic comment.

Instead she cries harder into my chest, ragged sobs that sometimes make her choke. I haven't heard her cry like this since that night on the roof with Beaver when she thought her dad was dead.

After an hour, she finally falls asleep. I pull the blanket over her and hush Pony when she starts whining for attention.

"Shhhh, don't wake Mama," I whisper, even though I know Veronica hates when I refer to her as that. I'm never sure if it's because I'm calling her "Mama" or if it's because I'm saying it to a dog.

Pony makes a face that is the dog version of rolling her eyes and plops on her bed, frustrated.

"Good girl," I tell her quietly.

"Who's a good girl?" Veronica asks sleepily.

"Not you," I kiss the top of her head. "I like my women wild and untameable."

She doesn't respond, and I realize she was never really awake.

I'm going to tell Jane that Veronica and I talked and we're fine and hopefully she won't ask me what Veronica said about marriage, since we didn't get to that part. I wasn't going to push her tonight, anyway. I kind of wish I hadn't said anything when she was upset, but you can't unring a bell.

There are times, like when Leo showed up, that I wish, for a minute, that I was my old self. These bombings aren't solved and Leo's not leaving until they are, and I know that eventually, I'm gonna get called in and I know that the minute I do, Leo is gonna see that as an opportunity and try to swoop in.

And it's not that I don't trust Veronica, because I do.

It's that I just wish the circumstances were different.

And I wish that she were wearing my ring, cause it would be like a big "Fuck off!" to other guys.


	6. Chapter 6

Two am and I'm wide awake. I don't want to blame the bottle of wine I drank tonight, or the seventy pound dog lying next to me. Logan's one rule is he never wants Pony in the bed with us. And I totally respect it when he's home. When he's gone, I like to sleep on his side of the bed, and I like Pony to sleep on mine. It helps to fill the emptiness that I hate admitting that I feel.

As exhausted as I am by recent events, I can't sleep. The fight that turned into Logan holding me while I cried that turned into a quickie on the couch the other night had gotten to me, and I'd taken it out on him as usual.

In these five years of on-off bliss with Logan's deployment, and promotion, and mystery assignments, I should've been grateful whenever I had him home, safe and sound. And I was, mostly. I think I always start to resent that instability in our lives, which is ridiculous because I'm usually the unstable one in this relationship.

Actually I'm always the unstable one in this relationship.

And then Logan leaves and I'm filled with all this guilt, which sometimes maybe is unfounded. This isn't one of those times.

He gets on these kicks about things. Sometimes it's really great, like the exotic cooking. Sometimes it's really shitty, like this couples therapy thing.

I don't know how to express to him that to me, sitting in a therapist's office would be something like being the girl in a magician's box that he's shoving knives into. Especially the crappy magicians who screw up and actually cut you.

Communication was always our issue, until it just wasn't. After we first moved in together, it was so easy. I guess it was our version of the honeymoon phase. After awhile I stopped taking his feelings into consideration, stopped telling him things that upset me or that I thought would upset him.

I don't even know how it happened.

Pony's snoring startles me, and I realize how much I've been in my head. It's three am now, and I know I should get up, do work, do _something,_ even if it's just the dishes, but I can't seem to get up.

Plus, I know if I get up, Pony will spread out to Logan's side of the bed and I won't have anywhere to sleep, if I'm ever able to.

I think it's this therapy thing that's really getting to me. It's just not something I think I can do, because we'll sit there and Logan will expect me to say certain things, and Jane will expect me to say certain things, and then they'll both be angry with me for not saying them or saying them wrong. And I'll be cussing furious at Logan because I went when I didn't want to.

Why does he need a third party so bad? Aren't I-and Dick, and his Navy buddies, and the guys at the gym-enough of a sounding board?

God I can only imagine what Jane thinks of me "spending five hours" with Leo. And really, it's none of her business.

"I need ice cream," I say it out loud and carefully get out of bed, hoping Pony doesn't notice the few minutes I'm gone.

With the TV on and a pint of triple chocolate fudge in hand, I plop on the couch, pissed off. Pissed at Logan for leaving. Pissed at myself for being pissed at Logan. Pissed at Leo for making Logan worry.

And honestly, I'm pissed at myself for not telling Leo to back off. Which I need to.

And I'm going to.

Tomorrow.

Procrastination is my worst habit. Instead of calling Leo and telling him that I didn't think I could meet him to go over the case in person, I texted him and told him that drinking and dancing was a mistake and that it's not going to happen again.

He replied with an angel emoji.

God, if Logan got drunk with one of his exes and was dancing and almost got kissed on our porch before being scared to death by a teenager making scrambled eggs in my kitchen, I would be furious at him. I would yell and swear-so much swearing-and he would probably wind up sleeping on the couch that night.

That would be a first. We haven't spent a single night that he wasn't deployed apart since we got back together.

The thing is, in high school, Logan absolutely would've done that. Logan _did_ do that. And I used that against him whenever I could, like Wonder Woman brandishing her shield.

We were supposed to be beyond all this petty bullcrap. We were supposed to be _adults_ now, whatever the cuss that means.

Sometimes I think I should've at least listened to his proposal. I don't even know what he was gonna say. And if I stop and let myself think that I might never get the chance to know, I'll sink into these couch cushions and never wanna get up.

We had a big fight once over who would take Pony to Petsmart for a bath. It was the stupidest thing. I was in the middle of a case and he was in the middle of some endurance training thing and Pony had gotten into God knows what when he took her out and stunk to high heaven.

I thought that since he was the one who let Pony get into the garbage or skunk droppings or whatever that he should take her. And he thought that since I wasn't in the office, I didn't need to be working and I could take her.

In the two hours we spent yelling, one of us could've just taken poor Pony to get a bath.

I finally relented, cursing all the way, and when we got back, Logan had completed his training, taken a shower and gotten Indian take out. I sat down and ate with him like nothing was wrong, and we never mentioned the fight again.

"That's why I love him," I said out loud, and only then did I realize that Pony had gotten out of bed and was sitting next to me on the couch.

"Come'ere, baby," I kissed the top of her head and straightened out her collar.

Now that Logan is going to therapy and trying to be so chill and honest about everything, he would definitely tell me if he got drunk with and was dancing with an ex.

But I'm not going to tell him about how stupid I almost was with Leo, because all it would do is hurt him. And that's the last thing I want to do, even though I seem to do it a lot.

He said in his voicemail he wanted me to think about marrying him. But I decided when I was sixteen years old that I never wanted to get married, and that hasn't changed.

Actually, I think that was part of the reason I was dating Piz back in New York. I figured it would be safe and easy and then when he wanted to get married, I would bail. I figured the city would be big enough to hold both of us, and if it wasn't, I would find a job at a firm in Boston or Chicago or maybe even Philadelphia.

"What do you think?" I asked Pony and she yawned. "Do you think I should marry Daddy?"

She stretched out next to me and gave me her sleepy face. Any minute now, she'll be snoring on the couch. At least I don't have to worry about her taking up the whole bed now.

After putting the melty ice cream away, I got back in bed but still couldn't sleep. I felt all this weight and guilt about Logan. It's been awhile since I haven't gotten to see him before he deployed. We've had a ritual all these years, and whenever we don't do it, I think my spidey senses go up and I stay in a constant tizzy (which I try to hide from everyone around me) until he comes home.

I close my eyes, picture him all sexy in his uniform and whisper to him, "Come back to me."

God, I'm pathetically emotional tonight. I must be getting my period.


	7. Chapter 7

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

I can't believe I'm at the second-to-last chapter of this journey. I hope it's helped all of you as much as it's helped me.

This chapter will be told in both Logan and Veronica's POV.

Oh and since the end of 407 and the beginning of 408 are the same scene, this is sort of more a during-thoughts than an Afterthoughts. It starts after Logan comes home and continues into the next morning before Veronica goes to the hospital to see Maloof etc.

* * *

_Logan's POV_

"Sooooo," Veronica and I were sitting cross-legged on the couch, eating cold Chinese food right from the containers.

"Sooooo, what?" she played evasive.

"Do you wanna tell me about that moment of clarity you had?"

"Can I just bask in you being home for a few minutes before revisiting everything?" she asks and instantly I'm on alert.

"What happened?"

Veronica popped a dumpling in her mouth. "It's a long story."

"I have time." I set the pan fried noodles I was picking at on the table. "Talk to me."

"I'm hungry."

I took the container out of her hands and set it on the table. "You're evading."

"Wow, you're really not gonna let this go, are you?" She picked up my abandoned noodles and stuffed her face with them.

I shook my head. "I know I told you to think about it, but…."

"Fine, fine," Veronica rolled her eyes. "Well, first of all," she set the container she was holding down and scooted closer to me. "Leo _was_ trying to make a move."

"So I get to go beat up an FBI agent now? Awesome!" I said, but I was smirking. I was only half serious. Maybe sixty percent. Seventy-five tops.

"You don't get to beat up anyone-unless you were ordered to by your captain. Then you could do it. I maybe would even wanna watch…."

"Ha ha. So you were saying?"

"So I blew him off, and then my dad and I tracked down where we thought Penn was hiding out with his girlfriend."

Instantly I know I'm not gonna like where this is going. "Okay."

"So we go to this cabin, and we bust in, we're breaking up their little love nest and those cartel guys that Maloof paid off show up."

"Shit." I sit up straighter, stretch my legs out, and Veronica turns and sits in between them, leaning against me. I lace my fingers with hers and feel her relax a bit.

"They're firing at us like crazy, and I ask my dad how many bullets he's got and he _forgot _to load his gun." she shakes her head and I can feel her starting to cry. "So he stupidly goes out to the car to get his ammo and I'm shooting thinking, nine left, six left, and he's just out there, defenseless. I ducked and I thought to myself, 'I'm gonna die tonight. My dad's gonna die, and I'm gonna die, and the last time I saw Logan, I blew him off.'" she wipes a tear from her eyes and takes a deep breath. "I should've been scared shitless, scared for my dad, but instead I felt guilty for how I treated you. And I kept thinking, that can't be the last time I see him."

I tightened my arms around her, kissed the top of her head and waited for her to go on.

"My dad was still outside, I was outta bullets, and then outta nowhere, Weevil showed up with his crew. Scared off the cartel thugs. He saved us."

I let out a huge sigh of relief. There's a good chance that Weevil and his friends did a lot more than just scare the cartel guys. They probably killed them. Did everyone a favor.

"So I got home and I was shaking," Veronica went on. "I couldn't relax and I went in the bedroom and I just sort of had an epiphany," she turned to look at me. "I don't wanna die without you knowing that I'm committed to you. To us."

'Veronica," I began but she cut me off.

"A few years ago, we were having a fight, I don't remember what about. And I remember thinking, while we were screaming at each other, that this could be it. That one of us could storm out that door and that would be it. And as pissed off as I was at you, I didn't want to be the one to leave."

"Was that the night you hurled a pillow at me and slammed the bedroom door in my face?"

"That was the one."

"Your car," I said quietly. "We were fighting because of your car."

"I love my car!" Veronica said defensively.

"It's too conspicuous and you know that!"

"Forget about my car for a second, okay?" she gave me an annoyed look and I almost had to smile at her. One minute she's crying, the next minute she's annoyed. That's my girl.

"So I'm in bed alone, crying, and you're sleeping on the couch, and I put music on so you wouldn't know I was crying-"

"Was that the night you played O-Town for hours?"

"Yeah sorry about that," she giggled. "So I'm laying there, and it hits me."

"What hits you?"

"That relationships are hard whether you're married or not. I could've walked out that night-I was that angry-but I didn't want to. That's commitment-with or without a ring. I am committed to you, Logan. I love you. And I know I haven't really shown it lately, and I'm sorry."

I leaned my forehead against hers. "I love you too."

"After that fight I started to think that marriage doesn't really change anything, unless you let it. I started to think about it, about us. And that scared the hell out of me."

"Was that before or after the scare?" Veronica didn't like to use the words "pregnancy" or "missed period". She referred to the week she spent worrying about being-or not being-a mother as "the scare" and I just went along with it. I don't think I had realized until then how much I wanted to have children. How much I wanted _us_ to have children. I think that was the first time Veronica truly realized that she might want them. She'd said the tears she cried when she saw the negative test were tears of relief, but I wasn't convinced.

"It was after, but that doesn't matter. Plenty of unmarried people have kids that they don't fuck up." Veronica pointed out and I nodded my agreement.

"I kinda freaked out after that because I had always told myself that if we got married, it would ruin everything. And then I realized that we didn't have to be married to fight like cats and dogs and fuck everything up. That anything you or I did to the other could piss them off enough to leave."

"I would never-"

"I know," Veronica cut me off. "I know. But we both know that I would. I _have_. And I've spent a lot of time thinking about it since then, mostly while you were gone. And I thought that it didn't matter that we weren't married. It took you asking and me almost dying to realize that it does matter."

"I'm confused," I admitted.

* * *

_Veronica's POV_

"I'm not making sense," I got up and paced around the living room a bit. I stopped and sat on the edge of the coffee table so I was in front of Logan.

"I basically figured out that being afraid of losing you wasn't enough of a reason not to marry the man that I love, that loves me more than anything. And I know that getting married isn't going to instantly fix all of our problems." I took Logan's hands in mine and kissed them. "But I love you, and I think we should get married."

Logan got up without saying anything and went down the hall.

"Something I said?" I called after him. A moment later he reappeared, knelt on the floor in front of me and took my left hand in his.

"Do you want me to say everything I was gonna say before?" he asked. "'Cause I could do that, or I could wing it-"

"I'm saying yes, just put the ring on my finger."

"So romantic," Logan shook his head but he was grinning. He slid the ring on my finger and then scooped me up in his arms and spun me around.

When we were dizzy from kissing and spinning Logan set me down on the kitchen counter but kept his arms around me, his forehead pressed against mine.

"Do you want a big wedding?" he asked. "Small wedding?"

"Definitely small. And soon?"

"How soon?"

"Soon," I said before kissing him. We started pulling at each other's clothes and that was the end of all discussion for the rest of the night.

* * *

The next morning, Logan hummed or sang along with Alexa no matter what he was doing. It was adorable.

I ducked out to go see my dad but actually drove to the mall. If we were gonna get married quickly-and I definitely wanted to get married before Logan got called up again-I was going to need a dress.

I'd done enough browsing online to know that I didn't want to go to a bridal boutique. Racks and racks of huge, poofy gowns in ten different shades of white was just not my thing. I wanted a simple dress, and I wasn't even entirely sure I wanted it to be white.

Seven or eight stores into my mission I found it. There at Macy's, in the center of a rack full of patterned sundresses, was a simple white dress. There was only one and it happened to be my size. I bought it without trying it on and then went downstairs to get shoes. They cost more than the dress but I figured that was okay since I could always wear them again.

Macy's only had clear garment bags so I called Logan before going inside to make sure he wasn't home. I could tell from the grunts he let out between words that he was at the gym. I pretended I was calling about dinner, then hurried in the house and hid my dress in the back of my closet behind old stuff I never wear but can't get rid of, like my pink homecoming dress. I added the shoes to the endless pile that filled the floor of the closet and sat on the bed, sighing.

This was real. Logan and I were getting married. I took my engagement ring off and slid it into jewelry box. I couldn't wear it in front of my dad until I was ready to tell him, and I wasn't sure when that time would be. I looked at my empty finger and realized that I missed having the ring there.

I grabbed my phone to text Logan to tell him that-I knew it would make him happy-but it started ringing before I could send the text.

I knew before I answered it that it was bad news. It's always bad news.


	8. Chapter 8

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

Okay so this chapter is only canon up to the wedding, obviously. Like chapter seven, it'll be in both Logan and Veronica's POVs. Thanks so much for taking this cathartic journey with me!

* * *

_Logan's POV_

It's weird, the things that happen when you realize you might die. In the movies you see white light, dead relatives, maybe God, a beach, a beautiful sunset.

When I was younger, I thought I would see Lilly. There were a few nights, spinning out on booze and drugs, that I'm pretty sure I _saw_ Lilly. Her spirited personality was gone and she was looking at me like I'd hugely disappointed her. Maybe I dreamt it but it seemed real.

Now, thrown a few dozen feet from the car, bleeding from a head wound, at least a few ribs and my left leg broken, all I see is Veronica.

She's wearing the dress she wore to stand up in Wallace's wedding, something she complained about bloody murder. But Shae picked well-the slinky blue dress suited her, and she looked beautiful with flowers in her hair and "pinchy" heels on her feet.

She leaned over me, and a flower fell from her hair and hit me in the eye. She gave a gentle kiss and said, "Come back to me."

The last thing I remember is telling her, "Always."

* * *

_Veronica's POV_

Four days.

Logan has been in a coma for four days.

Soon he'll be moved to another hospital, they keep arguing over where. The doctors, the insurance company, the Naval officer that showed up hours after the accident to talk about Logan's wishes and benefits and a DNR.

A fucking DNR. What is he even doing with a DNR?

The Naval guy-Cleary? Crandy?-said I had control over the DNR as Logan's wife. He set it up that way.

He put a lot of things into place, Cleary/Crandy said.

"Did you find the letter?" he asked me.

"What letter?"

Apparently Logan left me a letter, somewhere in the house. Crandy/Cleary said that he had a copy, but that Logan had left me one and that he'd preferred I find that copy myself.

The problem with this being, I haven't left his side since the accident. I sat outside the operating room during his surgeries. I followed him down the hall to X-ray. I've driven everyone in this hospital insane with questions, or cursing, sometimes both. I would've asked Wallace to get it when he went to pick up Pony, but I didn't feel right about having anyone other than me looking for it.

Cleary/Crandy told me he would be in touch again regarding Logan moving to a VA hospital a few hours away. They think they can best take care of and "keep an eye" on him there.

Mac, home from Istanbul, offered to check out all the facilities in question, see which has the best patient recovery records. "I can look into complaints, visitation problems, infection risks."

"Isn't that illegal?" Wallace asked.

Mac shrugged. "Illegal-ish."

"As in, you can't be arrested for it?"

"As in, family is worth the risk."

I knew I should be an active participant in this conversation but I didn't have the energy, so I sat there with them in the hall, watching Logan through the glass in his room's door.

They quietly debated whether or not what Mac was suggesting was ethical, and it occured to me that it might not be the best conversation to have in an ICU hallway. Most of the people moving around seemed to be in a hurry to get where they were going though, so I'm not sure how much attention they were paying.

I'd finally convinced my dad to go home and rest yesterday. He was exhausted having been here with me for almost three whole days and I didn't need him to worry about, too. Matty promised she would check on him, make sure he was eating. She seemed a little different the past few days, off or something, but I was too consumed with my own situation to worry about her. I had to concentrate on Logan.

I think I thought that, if I just willed him better, it would happen. They thought my constant talking and pacing might be "disruptive to his healing" and that's why I was outside his room at eleven pm instead of sitting next to him. I kept an eye on him constantly though, and I planned on going back inside after midnight when the nurses changed shifts.

"You guys should go home," I stretched my legs out in front of me. "It's late."

"It's cool," Wallace said at the same time Mac said, "I'm not going anywhere."

"Seriously, I'm….I'm not fine but I'll be okay."

Wallace stood up but Mac stayed in her seat. "Can I bring you anything before I leave?"

"I've got coffee and chocolate runs covered," Mac said. "I'm here for the night."

Wallace hugged me, promised they were taking great care of Pony, which I knew that they were, and left, saying he'd see me tomorrow.

"I'm fine, Mac."

"You just said that you weren't," she moved into the seat next to me. "Tell me what the doctors said."

"You're not just gonna hack into Logan's patient file?"

"I invade other people's privacy, not people I love." She pulled a tablet out of her bag and opened the case. "Tell me any details you remember, I'll give you all the info I can, only in English."

I took a deep breath, trying to piece together what I remembered. "He's got five broken ribs. His left leg was broken in two places, they're not worried about any of that."

Mac was typing away furiously. "Okay."

"They talked about….swelling, on his brain or inside his brain, from the blast. They said if he hadn't closed the car door…." I shook my head. When the bomb went off, and I ran outside to find Logan, he was a ways down the street, in front of the car, with the driver's side door on top of him. At first I thought that protected him completely, but when I shoved it off of him, I saw that he was bleeding from the head and unconscious.

"He's breathing," Mac said. "On his own and that's good." she did some more scrolling. "There's a much higher probability of him waking up when he's able to breathe on his own."

I know that Mac is trying to help. I know she thinks this is maybe what I need, but the only thing I need right now is for Logan to open his eyes.

* * *

After a full week, I finally went home for a bit instead of to my dad's. I'd been wanting to search for Logan's letter, and I know the doctors were grateful to have me out of their hair for a little while. I'd given my cell number to every doctor, nurse and aide I could find, in case he woke up, in case anything happened.

It would be just my luck that he'd wake up while I'm tearing the place apart looking for the possibly depressing letter he's left me.

I looked in his bag first. I checked his dresser drawers and the closet behind his clothes and under his shoes.

It wasn't in the bathroom, behind his books in the living room, inside the framed photo he has of himself with Lynn when he was seven or eight.

"Photos," I said out loud. "His photo box." It's so quiet without Pony here. It's almost nerve wracking so I turn the TV on for background noise. A rerun of _The Nanny_ prattles on in the background while I start looking for the box Logan kept of photos from his childhood.

I finally found it on the bottom shelf of one of the kitchen cabinets, behind a jug of olive oil. The box was much smaller than I'd remembered-the letter would have to be folded to be inside.

I took it to the couch and sat down before opening it. What I found inside was a surprise.

Yes, there were a handful of photos of Logan with his mother, probably sent to him from his hideous maternal grandparents that never wanted a relationship with Logan but did he want to share Lynn's estate with them? When he said no, their basic response was "have a nice life".

Under those photos were a few rubber-banded stacks of photos from high school. Some of them I'd taken, some I know Lilly took. She was the star in some of them, others were of the four of us.

The very bottom photo was one Logan and I had taken one night at my old apartment. My dad was out of town on a case and Logan had come over to "keep me company" which meant order pizza and make out on the couch.

The picture had been taken mid-evening, when our lips were swollen from kissing and we were both flushed and happy. I could make out the beginnings on a hickey on Logan's neck, and he was grinning like the cat that had caught the canary.

Once upon a time I'd had this photo in my bedroom. Actually I think I had a lot of these photos in my bedroom.

When we moved in here, Logan helped me sort through all the boxes of my shit, deciding what to put in storage and what I needed to shove in a corner here or there. There were a couple of boxes of photos, and I remember not even looking at them.

"Don't you wanna take a walk down memory lane?" Logan had asked.

I'd shaken my head. "No time to be sentimental, I only have the U-Haul to move this crap for a few more hours."

I'd never noticed him sneaking the photos out. Maybe he didn't want me to know he'd taken them.

I put the box back behind the olive oil and sat on the kitchen floor, annoyed. I didn't know where else to look. I went to get up and felt something hard under my hand.

A piece of kibble.

Logan bought Pony's dog food in bulk. He said it was way cheaper that way and he could lift the gigantic bags so I never questioned it. I scooted over to the sink and opened the cabinet.

Luckily the bag was two-thirds gone, and I could slide it out. Behind it were several dust bunnies, a half-empty bottle of dish soap, and a manilla envelope with my name on it.

It was awful heavy for a letter. I went back to the couch and turned the tv off, suddenly needing the quiet. Inside the envelope was a stack of legal-looking papers. I set all those aside and tucked my feet under me to open the business-sized letter with my name on it in Logan's scripty handwriting.

"Where'd you get such pretty penmanship?" I asked him once when he was making a grocery list.

"My mom," he'd said quietly, and I'd never brought it up again.

I don't even know if I wanna read this. But I can't not read it, so I tore it open and held my breath.

He opened with a joke about how he was glad I found the letter-that meant that Pony wasn't starving.

My eyes filled with tears and I had to kind of skim the parts about how much he loved me, how he hoped he was really old or died doing something really stupid.

He told me he didn't wanna be a vegetable but that he trusted me to make that decision for him. Thanks a lot.

He told me that he knew I'd be crushed, and that Jane could help. "She helped me immensely," he insisted.

And he told me to work with the Naval liaison, whoever he or she might be. Logan said there were a lot of benefits I was entitled to.

'I don't want your money," I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "I never wanted your money."

There was no way I could sleep now, so I went in the bedroom and took a duffle out of the closet. I filled it with clothes and a few of Logan's hoodies. I slid the letter back into the manilla envelope and slid the whole thing under the bed. Logan is still breathing on his own and until that changes, there's no way I'm even looking at that DNR paperwork.

I drove back to the hospital and was happy to see the nurse's station empty when I got to Logan's floor. I ducked into his room and settled in the chair closest to him.

"I thought you went home to sleep," one of the nicer nurses muttered when she came in to check his vitals.

I waited until she left to take his hand again. "It's not home without Logan there."

* * *

Logan has been in a coma for eight months. He's at a VA hospital now, which is bad because I can't be there with him all the time. I have to work, because if I don't I'll either collapse into a ball on Pony's dog bed, or I'll drink myself into a stupor. I've done both a few times.

After my dad had his hip surgery, I used taking care of him as my distraction. Pony and I waited on him hand and foot. When it became evident that he no longer needed our help, I rented a tiny first floor apartment outside of Neptune. I told myself that I did this so I could be closer to Logan, even though it was only twenty minutes. I think the real reason is that I didn't want to find a place to live in Neptune _without_ Logan.

The VA has a support group that they basically require you to attend at least once if you're going to be a frequent visitor to their facility. I went, just once, and being in a room with all these people whose spouses, children, parents, siblings were worse off than Logan just made me bitter. It was like I didn't belong there and neither did he.

There were people there whose family members had already died. Whose family members had _no_ chance. Logan still had one.

A small one, but he still had one. I'm holding onto that.

After the support group, I was in Target buying small bags of dog food-I can't lift the big ones-when a woman tapped me on the shoulder.

"Veronica, I'm so sorry, I recognize you from the papers. I don't know if you got my card, I wanted to reach out to you and tell you how sorry I am about Logan. I'm-"

"I know who you are," I narrowed my eyes at Jane. "And I did get your card."

Jane looked at me for a second like she expected me to say something, then she reached into her bag and handed me a card.

"I wanted to give you the number of a colleague. I thought you might want to talk to someone who has some distance from the situation?"

"Actually, I don't. But thanks."

I pushed past her and left the cart behind. Pony will just have to eat food from Walmart tonight.

She has some nerve coming up to me in a public place.

When I got home, I fed Pony the food she doesn't like and she looked at me like I'd thrown her to the wolves.

"Sorry, babe. I'll get you the good stuff tomorrow," I promised her. I nuked a container of Easy Mac even though I had no appetite, and ate a few bites that I didn't taste.

I fell asleep on the couch and dreamed of Logan. I hadn't done that in weeks. We were in our old kitchen, and he was making a stir fry while I cut up vegetables. He was telling me about his day and I started to tell him about mine. When I finished the story, he had morphed into Jane, who smiled at me and said in Logan's voice, "See? I told you this would help."

I woke up with a start, breathing heavy and feeling anxious.

I went to the fridge and slid the number for Jane's service out from under a take out menu.

"Once," I said out loud, to Logan, as though he could hear me three hours away. "I'll talk to her once, for you."

* * *

One time turned into six. Jane said she couldn't really help anyone or get to know them well unless she talked to them six times. I mostly lied to her, or let her talk. I didn't really have so much to say that I could fill one hour, let alone six.

Today is Hour Five, and she's really driving me crazy. I made the mistake of telling her I was going to Dallas for two weeks for a case, and she started on her usual shit about my "moving on" from Logan.

"Can you not do that?" I interrupted Jane even though I know I'm not supposed to. "Can you not talk like he's gone forever?"

"Veronica…."

"A five percent chance is a chance."

"It's basically no chance," Jane said without any cushion. She sounded just like the neurologists and everyone else that told me I should consider pulling the plug and move on. Sign the DNR or even withdraw his treatment entirely. But I can't do that.

I _can't._

All these years and Logan _never_ gave up on me. I'm not about to give up on him.

Plus, giving up on him would mean letting him go.

"Giving up on him means letting him go," I told Jane. "And as I've told you, I can't do that."

"Isn't that what you're doing by taking this job?"

"We could use the money," that's always the excuse I give. Since Logan wasn't dead, I would've had to go to court to get his benefits, trust fund, his parents' residuals. I don't want any of that. And saying that I "can't handle it" is the easiest way to get out of people pressuring me to do it.

Even when I gave up my apartment, it was a lie. I could've easily bought it. But I couldn't live there without Logan.

I drive by sometimes, and no one is living there even though I know it sold. Must be East Coasters who only come here during the winter.

"Do you think you should still be referring to you and your dad as a 'we'?" Jane asked. She was flicking her pen between her fingers in a way that kind of made me want to drive said pen through her eye socket.

"We have a business together, so yes."

"Maybe it's time to go out on your own?" Jane suggested.

I glanced at the clock on the wall and took this opportunity to ramble about how I love my job, how it's kept me grounded the past year. How I needed the distraction of my dad and my work to handle the fact that I have comatose husband in a VA hospital several hours away.

I ran out the time, as I usually do, and Jane said how we made great progress and should talk again when I'm back.

I went by the office to see my dad. Matty was there, just back from taking Pony for a walk. She worked for him most days after school now. I think it's good that he has someone there. Maybe he uses Matty as a distraction so he doesn't have to obsess about me, and that's okay. I kissed Pony's ears and promised I'd be home soon.

Then I started on the long drive to the VA. I booked a hotel room near there for a few nights so I could be close to Logan before heading to Dallas.

* * *

Six Months Later…..

"Good morning," I set my bag down, kissed Logan's forehead, pulled the chair as close to his bed as I could get it. "I'm sorry it's been a few days, I got busy with a case."

I told him about the dognapping case, and about Pony snubbing me because I smelled like other dogs. I told him about the cat who won't stop coming into MI, and how Matty has named it Silly and it seems to be sticking.

"It's so weird. My dad doesn't even like cats." I took a sip of my coffee and made a face. "Ugh. This coffee is disgusting."

"Smells cheap," Logan said with closed eyes.

"What?" I jumped up so fast I knocked my chair to the ground. "Logan what did you say?!"

He blinked a few times and mumbled something I couldn't make out.

"Logan?" I put my hands on his arm. They always say to touch and not shake him, but I shook him a little anyway. I've always had a problem with authority.

He blinked again, and this time his eyes stayed partially open.

"Logan!" I ignored everything I'd been told, everything I'd read and threw myself on his chest. "Logan, wake up! Talk to me. Logan, talk to me."

"Hi," he managed, and I immediately started sobbing on his chest. I knew this was where I was supposed to push the call button, get neuro and nurses and everyone in here. But they would just push me aside to do tests, and there was no way I was leaving Logan now.

"Don't cry," Logan said slowly.

That only made me cry harder. "You're awake. You're okay."

I sat up and looked at him to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. I grabbed his hand and kissed it.

"We missed….our honeymoon," Logan whispered.

I hugged him again. "We'll go anywhere in the world. I don't care."

"Why….are you crying? I'm…..fine."

"You came back to me."

"Always," he almost smiled at me, and I leaned down to gently kiss him.

Our bliss was shortlived. The room started filling with doctors and nurses, people in scrubs pushing me away from Logan and a nasty nurse chastising me for not calling them immediately.

"Don't go," Logan said to me. It was the loudest and clearest he'd spoken since he woke up.

"I'm not going anywhere."

It was the next morning before Logan and I got any real alone time together. He was finally back in his room and it was empty of hospital staff. My dad had just left for the cafeteria to get us breakfast.

I'd ignored everything the staff had told me and crawled next to Logan on the cot. I didn't want to cry so much but every time I looked at him, my eyes filled with tears.

"You know I'm not dead?" Logan asked quietly. His throat was still hoarse but he already sounded better than yesterday.

"I know, I know," I rubbed my eyes.

"No one answers my questions."

"What questions?"

"How long was I out?"

The doctors wanted me to evade this question. They thought the truth might affect his healing but I'd spent enough time keeping stuff from Logan and I was done with that shit. "Fifteen months, four days and-"

"Fifteen months? I missed our anniversary."

"I didn't celebrate without you."

"What'd you do?" Logan still didn't have a lot of strength in his arms, but he managed to put a hand on my arm.

"I got pretty drunk in my dive of an apartment."

"Tell me about it."

"Getting drunk?"

"Your dive apartment."

I told him about moving in there after my dad's surgery and how it was big enough for me or for Pony but not really for both. I was showing him a few photos of Pony in the apartment on my phone when several Naval officers entered the room. Logan couldn't really manage a salute so he nodded at them.

"Mrs. Echolls," one of them said, "We'd like to speak to your husband alone, if you don't mind."

I minded very much, but Logan's face said that I should go. "I'll go find my dad. I won't be long." I gave Logan a quick kiss on the check and then shot the lone female officer of the group a dirty look, just because I could, and went to the waiting room down the hall.

* * *

It turned out that Logan's Naval liaison wasn't named Crandy or Cleary but Clancey. And Officer Clancey handled all the things I had no idea how to do. He worked with Logan's accountant (which I didn't even know he had) to hire the best physical therapists and trauma specialists. He got Logan transferred back to the hospital in Neptune since they thought it could be weeks before he could go home. He also hired a driver, mostly for Logan to use to get to therapy when he came home so that I didn't have to jockey my work schedule around it. But Rodney, the driver, came in handy more than once. He brought us take out when we couldn't eat anymore dinners at the hospital cafeteria, and a few times he drove me back to the apartment when I was too tired to drive myself.

I did as much of my work as I could at the hospital, then at the rehab center when Logan moved there. He did well with physical therapy and occupational therapy but he had been against speech therapy from the beginning.

"I'm talking fine," Logan had said, and that was true, but sometimes he said the wrong words for things, or couldn't think of the word he wanted to say. He would get pissed, sometimes break things, but he never went back to speech therapy. The only time he went, the therapist wanted him to start with S words so all he would say was "shit". I think he actually made the guy cry, and I know I shouldn't have laughed at that but I did.

Surprisingly, Dick also spent a lot of time visiting Logan, first at the hospital and then at the rehab facility. He'd walk the floors with him, toss the weighted balls around to strengthen Logan's dexterity, and he even offered for us to stay in his beach house when Logan got discharged.

"I'm gonna be shooting a Hallmark movie anyway," Dick said. "So you guys can be my unpaid housesitters."

I wasn't sure I wanted to, but there were very few stairs at Dick's, whereas my apartment had several spots where you either stepped up or down. I figured the flat layout would be easier for Logan to navigate. And I didn't hate the idea of revisiting the two weeks we spent there falling back in love when I first moved back to Neptune.

"Guess what?" Logan asked when I walked into his room. He was sitting in his desk chair, his feet sliding back and forth on some kind of therapy thing.

"Chicken butt?" I kissed him and brushed his hair out of his eyes. "You need a haircut."

"You don't like the shaggy look?" he smirked. "One of the volunteer aides said I looked like Harry Styles."

"Ugh, that is not a compliment." I sat on the edge of the bed. "What did you wanna tell me?"

Logan grinned. "I'm going home next week."

I flew off the bed and carefully sat in his lap. "Are you serious?"

He gave me what I always refer to as his Military expression. "I'm always serious."

* * *

Two weeks later….

"Hey," Logan waved from the couch when I came in. Pony was lying at his feet chewing on a bone.

"How are you feeling?"

"Kaela said I'm kicking ass at OT. I peeled an orange unassisted today!" he raised his fist in victory.

I leaned over to kiss him and Logan pulled me into his lap.

"I have a surprise for you."

"Already?" I smirked and kissed him again.

"Rodney will be here any minute to drive us."

"You know that when I'm here, I can actually drive us around?"

"You can't drive to your own surprise," Logan kissed the tip of my nose, "And Rodney gets paid by the day, not the hour so we may as well use him. We can grab some take out on our way."

* * *

_Logan's POV_

"I cannot believe you blindfolded me," Veronica said as we sat in the backseat of one of Rodney's SUVs. The opening between the front and rear seats was closed and I could faintly hear the jazz Rodney liked to listen to slipping through.

"We're almost there," I ran my fingers over Veronica's.

"It's not that I'm entirely opposed to blindfolds in general," Veronica went on. "That one time, right after Halloween, we had some good times with a blindfold."

I glanced up front and was thankful for Rodney's penchant for chaotic saxophones. "We did."

"You're not like taking me to a sex club or anything, are you? 'Cause I need to shave my legs and-"

I shut her up by kissing her. "Just be patient."

Rodney stopped the car and I carefully maneuvered out of the vehicle, then hobbled around to her side and opened her door.

"We're at the beach," Veronica sniffed. "I smell it."

I just smirked at her and walked her over until we were standing in front of her surprise. "You can take the blindfold off."

Veronica whipped it off and then looked confused. "You brought me here to spy on our old apartment?"

"No." I grinned.

"You brought me here to break into our old apartment!"

"Wrong again."

"It was on Air B&B and you thought it would be fun to see what an '09er did to our old place so you rented it for the night?"

"Eh! I'm sorry Mrs. Echolls, you'll have to accept our consolation prize."

Veronica looked at me questionably. "Which is?"

"You remember how you said that it never looked like anyone had moved in?"

"Yeah, I figured they were East Coasters that wouldn't be here until winter."

"No one ever moved in because _we_ haven't moved in yet."

Veronica looked confused. "Logan, what are you talking about?"

I wrapped my arms around her from behind. "I'm talking about our house."

"We have a house?"

I gestured towards our old place. "It was a house originally that they split into two apartments. They sold it as a whole unit and I bought it."

"You bought it while you were in a coma?" she turned and looked at me like I was crazy.

"No. When Big Dick started buying up the town, I called a realtor. Actually got her name from Dick, if you can believe that."

"He screwed her," Veronica guessed.

"In more ways than one I'm assuming. I promised her a huge commission to keep an eye on this place and put an all-cash offer on it the minute it went on the market."

"Why would you do that?"

"What else am I gonna do with my trust fund?" I asked. "Besides. You love this place. I love this place. Pony liked being on the beach. It's perfect for us. We can't live in Dick's beach house forever."

"I don't see it so much as us living there, as much as we're housesitting for the responsibility challenged," Veronica laughed. "But no, we can't stay there forever."

"So what do you think?" I kissed the top of her head.

"I don't know what to think. It's one house now?"

"Not yet. I didn't wanna change anything until we had talked about it,"

I took Veronica's hand in mine and started walking up to the house. "I can't exactly carry you over the threshold yet, but we should check it out."

Veronica picked up the bag of Greek takeout I'd set at our feet when she took her blindfold off and after I carefully walked up the stairs, we entered our old apartment.

It was completely empty except for a small folding table in the middle of the living room and two folding chairs. There were candles on the table and the floor, and an Echo Dot on the kitchen counter was softly playing music.

"Did you do this while I was at work?" Veronica set the food on the counter and looked around.

"No, I had Rodney do it an hour ago. He's very resourceful. Hungry?"

Veronica nodded and carried the food to the table. Over a meal of pita chips with hummus and tabouleh, stuffed grape leaves and spinach pie, we discussed leaving the place as two apartments for now.

"I loved this place when we lived here," Veronica looked around. "And we could rent the place downstairs for the time being."

"Or use it for storage."

"That too. Like a garage!"

"I could put my bike in there," I suggested.

"And your surfboard," Veronica tossed a pita chip in her mouth.

"And my tools."

She arched an eyebrow. "You don't have any tools."

"I had a toolbox when we lived here."

"No, correction, _I_ had a toolbox. I bought it when you were in ...Kazakhstan maybe? And I had to repair that leaky faucet in the bathroom."

I arched an eyebrow at her. "I have my own tools."

"Is everything about sex with you?" she asked but she was grinning.

When we finished eating I told Veronica I had one more surprise for her.

"My own Xterra?" she guessed. "No, my own Beamer! No, wait! You bought me a boat!"

I pulled a card out of my pocket and handed it to her.

"Logan Echolls, Naval recruiter," she read. "What does this mean?"

"It means I'm starting to work again, next week, at a Naval recruiting office just outside of town."

I watched her reaction, and it took Veronica a minute to say anything.

"Does this mean you won't be deploying? Like at all?"

"Not for awhile, no. I've still got a long ways to go in therapy before I can even think about that. But it's a chance for me to stay involved, be useful. And it'll get me out of the house."

"You mean you're already tired of being my house husband?" she teased.

"Very."

Veronica thought about it for a few seconds. "So you get to stay in the Navy, but you'll be home at the same time, every day?"

"Most likely, yes."

Veronica grinned. "Sounds like a plan." she scooted her chair closer to mine. "There's just one thing we need to do now."

"What's that?"

"Hire movers to bring all our furniture back." she leaned forward and kissed me. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For this. I didn't thank you for getting it for me, for us."

"I'd do anything for you, you know that."

She put her hands on my face and kissed me again. "I do know that. Is Rodney still outside?"

"Of course, why?"

"I think we should go home and celebrate."


	9. Epilogue

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

I thought the epilogue should only be in Veronica's POV, since that's where the show started. I don't plan on continuing this story beyond this part, but I do have a few other story ideas swimming around in my head. You never know with me! There's a few more notes at the end of the story. Thank you for reading!

* * *

March 2022

"Are you sure you wanna spend our anniversary with other people?" Logan put a tie around his neck and started tying it. "I'm all for having a housewarming party, but maybe we should've had it next week?"

"Our anniversary is tomorrow," I reminded him from the bathroom.

"We could start celebrating early," he suggested.

"I think it's good to have it tonight," I came out of the bathroom and turned around so Logan could zip my dress up. "I've been dying to tell everyone, anyway. This way we can do it all at once."

"You look beautiful," Logan smiled at me. "Maybe we should rethink the party because-"

I silenced him with a kiss. "Aren't I the one who's supposed to be crazy horny in the second trimester?"

"I thought you were always crazy horny," Logan said. The doorbell rang before we could continue that conversation.

Logan kissed the tip of my nose. "To be continued?"

"Yeah. Go get the door, I'll be right down," I told Logan and he called out to Pony to stop barking.

I checked my reflection in the mirror one last time and slipped into a pair of silver wedges. My red dress flowed just enough that my tiny baby bump wasn't obvious unless you were looking for it.

I came downstairs to find my dad and Pony playing tug-o-war with a large pink and blue striped rope. Logan was watching them with an amused look on his face.

"I didn't even get a 'hello', he goes right for the dog," Logan teased.

My dad got up and gave me a hug, even though Pony whined and pushed the rope against his leg. "Hi, honey. You look beautiful. How are you feeling?"

"A lot better now that the projectile vomiting phase is over. Lorena couldn't come?"

"No, she's working the night shift this month. But I might have let the big news slip and she sends her congratulations."

The doorbell rang again just as the oven timer went off. Logan insisted on having the dinner catered so I wouldn't have to cook but he did let me make a few desserts.

"You get the door,' I told him. "I'll get the cupcakes."

Dad looked up from Pony again. "There's cupcakes?"

I ignored him and went into the kitchen. I overheard Mac and her new boyfriend Dayton talking and a minute later I had company in the kitchen.

"Happy anniversary! I brought champagne and-" Mac took one look at me and her mouth dropped. "And you won't be drinking any, will you?"

"What makes you say that?" I asked innocently. The doorbell rang again and the catcalls I heard could only mean that Dick and his ho-of-the-week had arrived.

"Veronica. You might be able to hide under the sweaters and tops you wear at work-and yes I noticed that red one last week was Logan's-but you can't hide it in that dress. How far along are you?"

"Shhhhh," I said. "Only my dad knows."

"Dick's too self involved to even pay attention to us," Mac said, but she lowered her voice. She seemed to just notice the bite-sized cupcakes I was setting on a cooling rack. "Those smell amazing. Do you need any help?"

"There's a cinnamon-sugar shaker on the counter over there, if you wanna start coating these with it."

"Are these Mexican chocolate cupcakes?'

"Yeah. I've been craving so much spicy stuff lately and when I found this recipe I just had to try them." The doorbell rang yet again and I started to think that Logan may have been right when he suggested we forgo the traditional dinging bell for one of those fancy video setups that buzzed or sang when someone arrived.

"Did you taste test the batter?"

"I taste-tested the recipe! I made them last week and they're incredible. I made Logan take most of them to the base so I wouldn't eat them all."

"I smell chocolate!" Shae bounced into the kitchen and set her eyes right on the cupcakes. "Those look incredible."

"Mmmm," Mac said with her mouth full. "They are."

"No fair," Shae came over and scooped one up.

I shook my head at them. "You guys are worse than Logan."

"Can I help you with anything?" Shae asked after I swatted her hand away from a second cupcake.

"I don't think so. The cookies I made are already on the island and I'm not gonna take the mini cheesecakes outta the fridge until we're ready to eat them."

"You made mini cheesecakes?" Mac asked. She and Shae both looked shocked and exchanged a look.

"Yeah, why?"

"When did you become Martha Stewart?" Shae eyed me suspiciously.

"I've been on a baked goods kick lately," I shrugged. The doorbell rang yet again and I started clearing off the counter. "That's probably the caterers."

"You had dinner catered?" Mac tried to a sneak around me for another cupcake.

"Just have a cookie," Shae told her. "These are chocolate-caramel-toffee."

Logan brought the caterers in then and I shooed everyone out to the living room so they could set up. I noticed that Shae grabbed another cookie on her way out.

"You won't even have room for dinner," I said.

"Eating dessert first is more fun."

She wasn't wrong there. Logan wrapped his arm around my waist and looked at me. "Now?" he mouthed and I nodded.

"You guys haven't seen the place since it was finished," Logan said. "Do you want a tour?"

Everyone followed us as we showed them how we turned what used to be a downstairs bedroom into a joint office. The outside staircase was now indoors and led to the third floor, where the master bedroom and bath were. Our old apartment was now the second floor, housing the main bathroom, the guest room, and the surprise we wanted to share with everyone.

"This was kind of an add-on," Logan said, opening the door to the nursery. Mac and Shae followed me in and both Wallace and Dick hung in the doorway, peering in. Dayton was in the hall discussing sports with my dad, who'd already seen the nursery.

"You're pregnant?" Shae exclaimed.

"Oh man, this means the end of your sex life, dude!" Dick exclaimed.

"I got it," Wallace said and socked Dick in the shoulder.

"Thanks," Logan said appreciatively.

Everyone took turns hugging me and telling me how great I looked and asking how I was feeling.

"I don't wanna jump to any conclusions," Wallace said, "But I'm guessing the pink ponies everywhere mean you're having a girl."

"Yes, we are." Logan protectively wrapped an arm around my waist. "She's due August eighteenth."

"How are your cravings?" Shae asked. "Mine were horrible all through my second trimester."

"They're pretty insane lately. All spicy foods and salty stuff. French fries, pretzel bites."

The caterers rang bells then, signaling that dinner was ready and everyone headed back down the stairs. I noticed Wallace hanging back and then he wrapped me in another hug.

"I'm really happy for you, V."

"Thanks, Wallace."

I could tell he wanted to say something else but I waved him off. I knew what he was going to bring up, but it didn't matter. I'm a different person now, and even if I wasn't, it wasn't like I was holding the fact that he told me-on more than one occasion-not to have kids against him. "Come on, I'm starving."

* * *

"How is it that we didn't do any cooking but we still have mounds of dishes?" I closed the loaded dishwasher and turned it on. "We have enough for at least another load," I surveyed the stacks of plates and silverware and clusters of glasses.

"We didn't cook but we did eat," Logan pointed out.

"True," I turned out the main lights, leaving the rest until tomorrow. I peeked in the living room to see Pony asleep on her bed, the rope from Dad tangled underneath her. I started to say something and a yawn came out instead.

"Come on sleepyhead," Logan picked me up bridegroom style. "Time for bed."

"I don't wanna sleep," I ran a hand over his chest. "I wanna celebrate."

"Plenty of time for that tomorrow," Logan kissed my forehead. "You need your rest."

I wanted to protest, but I _was_ exhausted. He set me down carefully on the foot of the bed and reached down to pull my shoes off.

"I could've just kicked them," I said, giggling.

"Then I couldn't have done this," Logan kissed the arch of my left, then my right foot.

"I thought you thought I needed rest," I arched an eyebrow at him.

"You do. Stand up."

I stood and he unzipped my dress and helped me out of it. I pulled him down for a long kiss and whined when he pulled away.

"Pajamas," he went to the dresser and took out a pair of red satin pjs. He handed them to me and gave me a gentle kiss. "I'll be right back."

He went into the bathroom while I changed. He came out a minute later with his shirt in his hands.

"Oh that's just not playing fair," I said, grabbing his ass I crossed by him on my way to pee.

"Playing fair is no fun," he called after me.

When I came back in the bedroom he was sitting on the bed in just a pair of grey pajama pants, looking at his phone.

"What's so interesting?" I crawled across the bed and snuggled next to him.

"It's actually not interesting at all. It's an article about how people purposely pick baby names based on how popular they are."

"So they want their kid to be one of ten Jacobs in their class?"

Logan shrugged. "Apparently."

"What else is on there?"

Logan titled the phone as he scrolled. "Sophia, Emily, Emma, Michael, Mason, Cole. Noah, Finn, Taylor."

"Pass on all of those."

"It would be cruel to name a girl Finn."

"Ha ha." I leaned my head on his shoulder.

"And down here it lists some of the least popular names."

"Onia?" I read. "Who would name their kid Onia?"

"It's pronounced like Anya."

"Still awful."

Logan put his phone on the nightstand and turned off the light. "You know, eventually we're going to have to agree on a name."

"I thought we did agree. Shannon."

"When did we agree on Shannon?"

"The night my dad came over to watch college basketball. After he left I was talking about 90210 and we both liked the name Shannon."

"When have you ever talked about 90210?" Logan laughed.

"We wanted something neither trendy or common. We wanted something that goes well with Lilly. I thought Shannon was perfect."

"I feel like I slept through this conversation." Logan yawned. "Are you sure you didn't dream it?"

"Fairly certain because we talked about whether or not Lilly Shannon sounded better than Shannon Lilly?"

"Oh, that I remember," Logan said. "Honestly I'm not sure about the name."

"We don't have a ton of time left to discuss it. And I kinda want to start referring to the baby by name."

Logan's hand traveled from my side to rest on my stomach. "What do you think, Baby Girl? Do you wanna be Shannon?"

"We could always go back to Delilah," I teased. For the first three hours or so we knew we were having a girl, we'd talked about the name Delilah. But after Logan sang the song to me I couldn't unhear it and that name went out the window.

"No, Delilah Echolls sounds like a porn star in the making."

We agreed to choose a name the next day and I drifted off hearing the old Plain White Ts song in my head. I started to dream of a baby floating around on a cloud. I asked her what her name was and when I woke up with a start, I knew that a) I needed to pee and b) our daughter had just told me what her name was going to be.

Even though it was two am, I woke Logan when I got back from the bathroom.

"What are you craving?" he asked, starting to get up.

"Nothing, I'm not craving anything. Well that's not true, I should go downstairs for some popcorn. But that's not why I woke you."

"Then what's up?" his eyes were already closed again.

"I know what the baby's name is."

"How?" Logan asked after a yawn.

"She told me."

Logan opened one eye, then the other and tried to focus on me. "Are you serious?"

"I saw a baby in my dream, and she told me her name. I think it was our baby telling us what to name her."

"And what did she tell you her name was?"

"Sabrina."

Logan sat up, rubbed his eyes, and looked at me. "Sabrina Echolls. I kinda like it."

"I kinda love it."

Logan put both his hands on my stomach. "Sabrina? Sabrina, are you in there?"

She responded by kicking me, hard.

"I guess that's her name," Logan leaned over and kissed my stomach, then my lips.

"Can we celebrate now?" I asked Logan, smirking.

"Not at two am. You need to sleep."

I stuck my tongue out at him. "Spoilsport."

"Plenty of time for that tomorrow," Logan turned the light off and laid back down. I snuggled against him and drifted back to sleep quickly.

This time I dreamed of a little girl chasing Pony on the beach. She had long blonde curls and big brown eyes. I saw Logan scoop her into his arms and kiss her cheeks as she squealed. I know all parents say their children are perfect, but Sabrina Lilly Echolls actually is.

When Logan set her down, he pointed something out to her in the sand. She picked it up and then ran towards me, arms outstretched.

"Look, Mama!" Sabrina squealed. "A seashell."

"It's beautiful."

"It's perfect," she corrected. She'd just learned that word and said it about everything. I watched her play with her dog and her daddy and thought that she might be right.

Finally, after all the pain and turmoil and utter crap that followed me for so many years, finally, everything was perfect.

* * *

_AUTHOR'S NOTES:_

Okay so when I started writing this, I knew two things emphatically. 1) that Logan would NOT be dead and 2) that I wanted to give Logan and Veronica a perfect, shiny happy-go-lucky ending. I wanted it to be like a big fat CUSS YOU ROB THOMAS because you know what? He didn't HAVE to give us a perfect "happily ever after" to leave Logan and Veronica alone. Relationships don't have to be perfect, rarely are perfect. Rob didn't have to do what he did. So dammit I did this just to spite him. I made everything perfect. And I wish he knew it! I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!


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